


Life is Hard. Death is Harder.

by RinAsami



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-11-14 04:39:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11200614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAsami/pseuds/RinAsami
Summary: A vampire wants a companion. A young man wants a home. Forcing them together doesn’t make a lively companionship nor a happy household. It takes trust and respect to make any relationship work—egos must be set aside—selfishness must be abandoned. Victor and Yuri, opposites from different classes and different times, find that life is not always fair and they must put their mistakes behind them if they ever wish to thrive in the future.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bright blue eyes surveyed each of the grime covered bodies with a critical air, his piercing gaze causing each young man to wince or look away—all but one. A dark-haired boy, more black than brunette, met the pair of topaz irises without so much as a flinch, looking into the depths with not so much as fear or disgust, but with curiosity. The oldest resident of The Home for Disadvantaged Boys had never seen a visitor so beautiful and dressed as well as the man that stood before the group—he was intrigued.

The gentleman and boy, the term _boy_ used loosely as Yuri had just turned twenty-three, seemed to be sizing each other up as the former took a step forward to get a better look at the other’s face and the latter squaring his shoulders to be more presentable. The house mother fidgeted with her apron, crumpling it up and smoothing it out again. Yuri wasn’t a bad young man, but he did have the occasional stubborn streak and tended to speak his mind at the most inopportune times. She’d hoped that today wasn’t one of them. The home was full to capacity, and Yuri needed to find a home, or he would be let go into the world without any assistance. The older woman didn’t want that for any of her charges and prayed that the handsome, wealthy man that stepped into her office earlier would take him off her hands and provide him with a good life.

“What is your name?” The visitor asked, leaning down and removing his top hat, his shiny silver bangs falling on his forehead. He stuck out his hand, offering a smile filled with perfect white teeth when Yuri rubbed his arms and glanced away before answering.

“Um, I’m Yuri. Yuri Katsuki.”

The woman overseeing the interaction narrowed her eyes at the young man, clearing her throat in a not so subtle gesture. Yuri mumbled something; “Yes,” was the only audible word. He looked up, taking the man’s hand and shaking it. “I mean, I’m Yuri Katsuki, _Sir,_ ” he corrected himself.

The tall man bowed further, sweeping the hand holding his hat under their clasped hands to his chest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yuri. My name is Victor Nikiforov,” he said in a thick Russian accent. A smile hinted at the corner of Yuri’s lips; he liked the sound of this Victor’s voice—it was soothing. He was about to ask the man something but stopped as his thin frame shivered. Letting go of the other’s hand, he wrapped his fingers around himself to keep his bare arms warm, giving a menacing glare to the cracked window next to them.

The other boys gasped as they watched the rich man’s face turn from reserved happiness to worry as he slung his wool pea coat off his long frame and wrapped it around Yuri’s shoulders to stave off the chill. The young man lurched backward at first, unsure of the close contact, but quickly returned to his original position as the comforting scent that wafted off the coat hit his nostrils. Yuri turned red in the face when he realized that Victor’s eyes were watching every move he made, including the no-so-convert sniff of the satin lining.

The man stood upright, glancing at the woman in the corner before turning his attention back to the boy that looked much too adorable in the large garment. “Yuri,” he put his hands on his hips, grinning, “would you like to come live with me?”

Yuri’s eyes darted from the other boys, to his benefactor, and back to Mr. Nikiforov before scratching his head and wiping the non-existent sweat from his brow. “Well, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but if we got to know each other—I mean, I guess.” He answered like it was more a question that a statement; neither satisfied the old woman. She moved forward clasping her hands together pleadingly.

“I’m sorry, Sir…” The other boys dispersed, making room for her to stand next to Yuri, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What he meant to say was, ‘Yes, I would love to!’ Didn’t  you, dear?” She moved her hand to his back, patting him insistently. Yuri looked up at her, shrugging his shoulders and frowned slightly. The boy knew his days at the home were numbered, but he didn’t appreciate being forced to live with someone he just met. Little did he know, he was lucky that he even met his new family before being housed as most of the other boys were more or less sold to whoever wanted them. If the requester had the cash, it was a done deal. The woman of the home wasn’t uncaring, but she couldn’t deny the rising costs of housing so many boys; sacrifices had to be made.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s just getting a little shy,” she covered before taking Victor by the elbow to steer him toward her office. “I just have a few papers for you to sign and he’s all yours to do as you wish.” The woman cupped her hand around her mouth to direct a whisper toward the other. “But we do ask that you at least take proper care of them, of course.” She said the same sentiment to every new _adopter,_ but it was mentioned more to keep her own conscious clear. The caretaker was older but not stupid and knew that some people that came through to take purchase of the boys did so for only _improper reasons._

Victor waved the woman into her office, turning to shut the door behind him. As he sat and she got the papers in order he asked, “So, what’s wrong with him?” which made her stop in mid-signature.

She started tapping the pen on the paper as she thought, causing an inkblot in her cursive. “Well, nothing really. If you’re asking because he’s older and wonder why he hasn’t been housed yet…well, the kid is just not everyone’s type.” Victor raised an eyebrow, tipping his head toward her. “And…?” he asked.

Putting the pen down the woman ran her fingers through her greasy gray hair. “He’s got a stubborn streak and talks out of turn at times—as you’ve seen. Some people don’t like that and want a kid or in this case a young man that will either be a workhorse for the family or a substitute for a child they cannot bear naturally. People come in here and look at his age or try to talk to him and get turned off. You, Sir, are the first one he’s voluntarily shaken hands with.”

“So you’re saying I may have a hard time with him? He’ll be unruly?”

The woman shook her head. “No, I’m not saying he can’t take direction, it’s just that…” She paused, tapping her chin in thought, sighing. “May I be blunt with you, Mr. Nikiforov?” Victor nodded. “Then, what I’m trying to say is—if you’re looking for a young man to take to bed without fuss or to be a slave then you probably want to choose another boy. I’m not trying to insult you, but I’ve seen others of your,” She struggled to find the right word. “Stature come to me wanting nothing more than a sex toy and I’m advising you that he isn’t one of those that will obey without question and spread his legs begging for more.”

The frankness of the woman’s admission stunned him. Victor had heard many things in his time, but never expected someone so bold as to essentially put down their own _merchandise_ they were trying to sell. If he were to admit it, he admired the woman to some degree. At least she didn’t want one of her boys to knowingly be put in a situation they absolutely would not fare well in, despite the atrocities she was implying.

Victor’s mouth clamped shut abruptly when he realized it was hanging open after hearing what the guardian had said. He took the pen from her desk and slid the paperwork toward himself and started to sign where it was previously marked. “No matter, I’ll still take him. He intrigues me, and I’m looking for a companion, not a mindless hole I can use as a dumpster.” Crossing his T’s and dotting his I’s, he pushed the paperwork aside for her to look over, including a thick envelope he snatched from his pocket. The woman glanced over his signatures and finished hers, giving him his copy before filing the others. “The money in that envelope should be plenty, consider the extra a tip for not throwing the kid out earlier as most would have done.” 

The woman smiled, her stained teeth giving her an unkempt appearance. “Truthfully, I don’t know how much of a _friendly companion_ he’ll be either, but I wish you luck. Here are your papers. You’re all set.” She moved to stand, extending her hand to seal the deal. Victor shook the offering, adding, “I have all the time in the world to groom him to be a suitable comrade. We’ll be just fine.” He thanked her for the concern out of politeness.

“Just so you know though, in case you _do_ want to break him in—he’s a virgin in every sense of the word,” the woman added in warning. Victor didn’t acknowledge the admission, tipping his head and turning to exit the tiny room. “Thank you, madam. I will collect him at once to take him off your hands.” Grabbing the envelope, her eyes went wide as she counted the number of bills that were stuffed inside. It was enough money for two or three of the boys. She looked up to see Victor turning just out of her view. “My, my, thank you, Mr. Nikiforov! A true blessing you are!” she called out, hoping he could hear.

A hint of a grimace graced the Nobel man’s lips—he heard her perfectly. “A blessing I am not. A mere selfish creature is what I am.” Victor mumbled to himself in barely a whisper. He rounded another corner to see Yuri flipping through a tattered book as he sat on a torn and smelly chair. The boy nodded in acknowledgment as the man approached, but didn't speak. “You are free of this place now, Yuri. Collect your things; you’ll be coming with me.” Yuri looked at the hand that was offering to help him up; suddenly the fingernails looked longer than they had previously. The boy paused as he extended his hand, looking into Victor’s now swirling ocean eyes; they seemed to be pleading with him in a sense as they took on a saddened appearance. Goosebumps erupted on Yuri’s arms as the pair’s skin made contact—the man’s hand was freezing.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

* * *

 

 

It took an hour by carriage to reach the Nikiforov manor. Yuri’s face was nearly plastered to the window as he took in the forest as it whirled past before becoming wide eyed as they came upon the far reaching manicured lawns of the estate. Victor looked down and grinned as he heard the sharp intake of breath as they neared the mansion at the center of the gravel turn-about. The home, more like a castle, stood three stories tall with windows covering the front facade. The boy turned to his new benefactor, mouth agape in wonder.

“This,” he pointed, “is all yours?!”

Victor nodded, moving to get up as the carriage stopped at the front double doors. “This is the Nikiforov manor. It’s been in my family for generations you could say. It is your home now.” Yuri’s inaudible, “wow,” made the man chuckle as he watched the younger man bolt out the door towards the entry steps. After unlocking the doors, Victor let the other go in first to take in the grandeur of the house from the interior without feeling watched.

Yuri’s eyes darted from one end of the foyer to the next, taking in the massive chandelier in the large hall before him. He’d never seen such extravagance. His unwashed fingers went to graze over the finely carved staircase, but he pulled them back, seeming to chastise himself as the lord of the house came up from behind. The young man turned to see the other towering over him with a smirk on his face. “You like I presume?”

Grimy hands fisted through black locks. “Like! Are you joking? This place is unbelievable!” Yuri twirled with his hands out wide, letting himself be giddy like a child for a moment before reining himself in.

“I’m pleased you like it. You’re free to explore the house as much as you like. However,” Victor reached out to touch the other’s shoulder to get his attention, making him flinch ever so slightly at the cold touch. “my room, the master suite on the second floor, is off limits. Period. No exceptions.” The man held a finger out in front of Yuri’s face to ensure he was listening. “Do you understand?” The other nodded. “Yeah, I get it.”

Yuri twirled a piece of stray hair in his fingers, tapping his foot. “So…where is my room? Should I take my bag to the basement? The servant’s quarters would be fine.”

Victor cocked his head, knitting his brows as he took a step toward the boy. Yuri took a step back; a shudder ran up his spine. He thought he’d said something way out of line somehow based on the look of the other’s face.

“Servant’s quarters?” Victor boomed before taking a breath and evening out his voice. “I mean…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Yuri’s shoulders relaxed as he watched the light flicker off the man’s chiseled face as he spoke—he wasn’t in trouble. “I don’t know how you’ve been treated in the past, but this is your home now. You will not be treated like a servant or a slave, and you’ll have a proper room in the opposite wing from mine.”

Victor removed his hat and started toward the large grand staircase to the left of the entryway. He motioned for Yuri to follow, muttering under his breath as he walked. “If I wanted a slave I would have bought a live in whore.”

Yuri followed up the carpeted stairs, marveling at the perfectly shined banister that brushed his fingertips. “So, why did you take me then? I’m an adult, so you didn’t really adopt me, you just paid the old woman for the money it took to keep me with a promise to watch over me from now on. The other boys that left and came back told me of the rich men and what they wanted from them at night in their bedrooms. Is that what you want too?” The younger man’s voice was calm and even like asking the question was the most normal of conversation topics.

The older man openly laughed as he reached the second floor, turning to face Yuri as he came up from behind. “Yuri, I’m a lonely man, I won’t deny that.” He motioned for the younger to follow him down the hall. Keys jingled as he took them out of his pocket, flipping through the ring as he walked and talked. “I came to that house to find someone that would be suitable for a companion—someone I could be friends with—someone I could share my life with. You were the only one that didn’t seem uncomfortable by my presence. You didn’t shy away. I liked that, so I chose you.” He stopped in front of a mahogany door, turning the knob as he inserted and turned the key. Victor held his hand out, palm up to allow Yuri to step into the darkened room first.

Yuri’s eyes squinted at first as the light flicked on, revealing a grand bedroom, complete with king bed, dressing area, two dressers, and an en-suite bathroom off to the side. The younger man took a deep breath as he walked farther into the room. His eyes couldn’t stop moving as he took in the beautiful window coverings, fine china resting on the chests, and the miniature chandelier hanging above the bed. “Is this _your_ room?” Yuri asked, wide-eyed with wonder.

“No, this is _your_ room, Yuri Katsuki.”

The younger man glanced around, a grin creeping on his face. “Wow. All this for me? And I don’t have to do anything?” Yuri’s brain was conjuring up all the things he surely would have to do for the man in order to deserve such a rich life. Victor flashed him a genuine smile, taking the key off the ring and pressing it into the younger man’s hand. “I do not wish to force you into anything. All I ask is that you get to know me and for you not to run away.”

“Why the hell would anyone run away from this?” Yuri heaved his arms open wide to show the expanse of the estate.

A curt laugh escaped the Noble’s lips. “You know nothing about me Yuri; there are things you will learn that will scare you. I ask that you give me a chance. Though I am a selfish person, I will not force you to be my lover, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t wish for that in some capacity in the future.”

Yuri darted forward, taking a leap onto the plush bed, rolling around a few times before sitting up to see Victor leaning against one of the dressers watching him. “Well, at least your honest, right?” He laughed a little too high pitched, making him sound like a young boy instead of a young man. Yuri’s eyes drifted over the man’s thin form, stopping to take in the perfect features of his pale face. “Well…you are handsome, and I’m not opposed to being with a man.” He settled on his elbows, his eyes not leaving Victor’s. “But I would like to get to know you better before I give you all my firsts. Sound fair?”

Victor swept his arm to his chest, bowing at the waist. “I’d be honored to start at getting to know you. I’m just thankful you didn’t take off on me when we left the boy’s home.”

Before Yuri could respond his stomach growled loudly. Hopping up from the bed he patted his belly with a laugh. “Guess I’m hungry. Got any food?” Victor glanced downward, away from the other man. “Ah…no. No, I don’t actually. I’m sorry, I should have stopped to get some on our way back. I apologize, I wasn’t thinking.”

“I was too excited to think about eating then, so it’s fine.” Yuri put his hand on a hip, cocking his head to the side. “But…how can you not have any food to eat? You must go out an awful lot then?”

Victor walked around the younger man, putting a cool arm around his shoulders before directing him toward the door. “Yes, I go out for food. A lot.” A hint of a smirk pulled at his thin lips. “You could say that...in a way” He continued ushering the boy down the hall. “But that doesn’t help your hungry stomach now does it?” Yuri stared at the man, not knowing what to say in response. He shivered as they stopped in front of another mahogany door down the hall. Victor picked up on the boy’s discomfort, letting his hand slip off the bony shoulders. “This room contains clothes from some of my past servants and well as some of my own clothes I no longer wear. You’re free to choose whatever you like. Once you are dressed, you are welcome to call the carriage and go into the next town over and get whatever food you require.”

Yuri rubbed his hands down his arms as he was let into the storage room. He wasn’t sure if he should ask or if it was inferred from what the nobleman had said. Before Victor got far to allow privacy, Yuri hung his head out the door. “Hey, so…you’re letting me go alone then?” Victor stopped for a moment then turned on his heel. The younger man was prepared to see the annoyance in those beautiful blue eyes, but there was none. “Yes, Yuri. I am allowing you to go alone. I have work to do, and from the sounds of your stomach, you are on the verge of starvation.”

A toothy grin spread on the younger man’s face. “Thank you…for everything. I’m not going to run away and will be back before you know it.” He nibbled his bottom lip in thought before continuing. “Um, is there anything you want me to bring back?”

The noble shook his head. “No, I don’t want anything—just for you to come back to me.” The man dug into his pockets, pulling out a small pouch, and tossed it to the boy hanging on the edge of the far door. Yuri’s hand fell as he caught the coin purse, it being heavier than expected. “That will be plenty to get whatever you want. Be back before dusk and don’t listen to a word anyone tells you. Got it?”

The last statement caused Yuri to knit in brows in confusion. “Why would anyone even talk to me? No one knows me.” A chuckle escaped Victor’s grinning lips. Yuri rubbed his eyes as he swore he saw a fang shaped tooth slip over the bottom of the man’s lip but when he looked again it was gone. The noble continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Boy, you know nothing of how fast news travels. I am a reclusive, wealthy man and bored townspeople will talk and make up stories of all sorts to amuse themselves. They also fear what they do not understand. They will know you belong to me. They will tell you to fear me and to run away…among other things.”

The younger man grasped the the bag of coins tightly. “I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry; I’ll ignore whatever bullshit stories they try and feed me.” Victor shrugged given the other a wink. “We’ll see.” The older man turned and continued on his way down the corridor, calling back to the other behind him. “Just know Yuri that I can find you. That is not a threat, dear boy, but a mere fact. Enjoy your shopping trip.” Victor waved a hand in the air before disappearing into another room.

Yuri pulled himself back and shut the door. “What the hell. That was the strangest conversation,” he thought to himself. Looking down at his palm he used his other hand to open the strings of the purse. “Wow,” he stammered as he took in the small mass of shiny gold coins. Fingering through to the bottom, he gathered that it might have been enough to get food for months plus a full new wardrobe. It surprised him that the other would be so trusting as to give him such a sum and send him off by himself. He could go anywhere with the money he held in his hand. Setting the coins on a sheet clad dresser he turned to walk over and open up the curtains for more light. Sheet after sheet was pulled off each armoire revealing intricately carved furniture with antique skeleton keys resting in each of their locks.

After rummaging through and trying on garments from delicate silk shirts to fine woolen pants, Yuri chose a simple outfit of black cotton slacks, white shirt, and matching black vest. The previous owner of the attire must have been about the same size as Yuri—the fit was almost perfect. Finding shoes that fit just as perfectly, however, was another matter. The shoe selection was much more scarce than the other clothing. The younger man was about to give up when he spotted a new pair of loafers in an opened box in the back of one of the armoires. “Perfect!” He shouted as he carefully took the shoes out and tried them on. They were a bit loose but nothing he couldn’t handle.

Gazing into the mirror was like looking at another person entirely. With a proper bath and combed hair, Yuri could pass for a young nobleman or at least someone well above peasant with his new outfit and shoes. His hand gently glided over the expensive fabrics as he watched his movements in the mirror. “This is real then?” He murmured to himself. “I have a home. I have a room of my own and clothes…” Jumping up, he raised his fists in the air, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes. “YES! Home. I have a real home!” Yuri cleared his face and grabbed the coin purse, putting it in his pocket at the same time his hunger made another appearance. “Oh…” he rubbed his belly. “I think I am about to starve.”

Yuri took the grand staircase two steps at a time. He was giddy with joy as he smoothed his hand down his _new to him_ clothes once again. It felt so nice as he’d never handled such fine fabrics before. Stopping at the entry table near the front double doors he paused to ring the bell for the footman. As he waited he went through all the wonderful foods he could buy with the large sum in his pocket. A thought stopped him in his daydream. Victor never gave him a spending limit. Would the man be upset if he bought too much? The front door bell took the young man out of his worrisome thoughts and onto more important things…like filling his belly. It was time to verdure out and explore, something he was never allowed to do in the boy’s home. Yuri was out the door and into the carriage in a flash.

As the carriage drew away, a figure watched from an upper-level window, hiding behind long curtains. Victor swirled his drink as he watched the coach disappear down the road. “Be careful, Yuri. I’m trusting you. Be free, but you had better come back to me.”

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri hopped out of the coach and stretched after sitting for nearly thirty minutes as they made their way down the bumpy gravel road. He turned toward the footman that sat high above in the driver’s seat. “So…how does this work? Do you wait for me?”

Tipping his hat, the older man nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll wait until the sun starts setting.” Yuri furrowed his brow. “What’s with that? The sun setting I mean.” The driver shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone knows it’s dangerous when it gets dark, especially around these parts. You hear stories of people disappearing, so townsfolk know by now to stay indoors for safety. So, you come back before nightfall, and I’ll be here at the entrance to the town.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you then.” Yuri moved to take off toward the food stalls he could see down the way but stopped when the other man called out to him.

“Hey, before the sun starts setting, remember that. You come after, and I’ll be gone. Understand, kid?” Yuri waved his hand flippantly. “Yeah, got it.” He barreled down the road before the footman could say anything further. The boy was much too excited to hear lectures. It was the first time he’d been out on his own, and the new surroundings made it all the more interesting.

Yuri wrinkled his nose, putting his sleeve up to his mouth as he walked past a stable of horses. The overpowering smell of straw mixed with animal droppings was not something he was used to, making him cough in his hand. Moving past quickly, he saw a few stalls of fresh vegetables ahead and started to jog toward them. He noticed a few of the residents, men, and women with dirty, threadbare clothes, halt what they were doing to stare at him as he passed. At first, he wondered what they were gawking at; then he remembered he was dressed in elegant attire and probably looked like he had money—a stark difference from the peasant-like inhabitants of the little town.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump as he was in thought about the townsfolk. Yuri hadn’t realized he had stopped jogging and started in a slow gait as he eyed the people around him. He wasn’t used to attention, and at the moment he was garnering a lot of it.

Spinning around, Yuri jerked his shoulder away from the unwanted touch, taking a step back. An old woman with a moth eaten shawl and tattered apron looked the young man up and down. A chill rushed over him as he was judged making him smooth his hands down his arms, hugging himself.

“You’re the new property of that Noble on the hill, yes?” A weathered shaky hand pointed in Yuri’s face, making him jerk his neck backward.

Yuri snapped his mouth shut as he realized it was agape at being called what amounted to a pet animal. “Excuse me. I am not property for one, but yes I live there. How do you…” He was cut off when the woman took him by both shoulders, coming in so close he could feel her stale breath on his face. The smell was nauseating.

“Get out of there, boy! You’re lucky enough you were left alone—a chance to escape. You’ll disappear, he’ll kill you—just like the others.”

Yuri batted her hands away and pulled backward. “Don’t grab me; get off!” As he struggled free and started walking away, the woman came after him again. “He’s an evil, sick man. Don’t trust him,” she pleaded.

He turned so quickly that the woman almost crashed into him. “Leave me alone! You don’t know…”

“HEY!” A voice rang out from a nearby ally. “He said to leave him alone!” Another young man stormed from behind the shadows, marching directly toward the pair and shoving the old woman so hard she stumbled. “Go bother someone else, you old hag. No one wants to hear your damn stories of monsters that like to have naive boys for dinner.” The woman was spun around and shoved again in the opposite direction. “Go away.”

A few loose stones bounced off the street as the old woman dug her heel into the gravel, sulking as she finally left the two men alone. She kicked a few pebbles particularly hard before calling out, “This isn’t over, Pea Shit. I will warn everyone that comes into this town!”

The newcomer, a boy shorter than Yuri with olive skin and dark hair, bellowed out a laugh. “It’s Phichit, dammit!” He shook his head, turning toward Yuri’s confused face. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He extended his hand. “I’m Phichit and that old hag there is the town nuisance. I don’t know what her issue is with that rich man on the hill, but she’ll tell everyone—and _everything_ that he’s some baby snatcher or some crap.”

Yuri shook the others hand. “Um, okay…that was strange. I’m Yuri. Thanks, I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders as he made the phrase into more of a rhetorical question.

The bright grin on Phichit’s face seemed to be contagious as Yuri smiled back. “It’s no problem. I haven’t seen you around here before, and I heard her hassling you.” He rubbed the back of his head as he took in the visitor’s appearance. “So…you okay? You don’t look like you’d be used to being heckled.”

Yuri nodded. “Yes, I’m alright. And, no, I’m not used to that kind of thing, but not for the reason you’re thinking. I’m not some lost rich boy.”

Phichit padded the other on the back. “Good, glad you aren’t scared for life or anything. Just make sure you have everything you came with…that hag is a quick one.”

Yuri’s eyes flicked up to meet the other’s, his face etched with sudden worry.  He patted his pockets frantically, the sharp intake of breath and wide stare saying it all as wetness began to collect at the corners of his reddening eyes.

Phichit watched the range of emotions flutter across the other’s face—shock, sadness, and fear. The olive-skinned boy puts both hands in front of Yuri’s face, waving them around. “Don’t get upset. Wait here. I’ll be right back!” He took off in a run toward the direction of where the old woman departed, leaving Yuri to stand there in tears as passerbys started to whisper amongst themselves.

Minutes later a huffing Phichit came running back, leather bag in hand. "I hope…” He trailed off, bending and putting his hands on his knees before a string of labored coughs rung out. Yuri moved one hand to the other’s back yet jerked it away before touching. He didn’t know if Phichit would appreciate a stranger touching him.

Yuri looked around, noticing that no one was stopping to see that their neighbor was alright. “Are you…okay?” He asked as he chewed on his chapped lips.

“…that's everything.” Phichit dabbed his mouth before straightening up, quickly wiping off the substance on the portion of his pants that was covered with his jacket. “I hope that’s everything is what I was going to say. And yes, I’m fine—just a stubborn cold. Don’t worry about it. Running seems to make it worse.” Smoothing out his jacket, giving it a good shake as if it rid it of any dust collected, he looked at Yuri. “So, is it all there?” Phichit nodded toward the bag still in the other’s hand.

“Oh, right!” Yuri palmed the bag. "Um, I'm not sure. I...I didn't count it. But thank you for getting it back for me.”

“It’s not a big deal. Not everyone in this town is an asshole.” He paused, tapping his chin. “Well, okay, I may be the only one that _isn_ _’t_ , but still...” The sincere looking grin on Phichit’s face made Yuri laugh. The other boy seemed to be so happy; all traces of the coughing fit gone. He was like a ray of sunshine in the darkness of a disgruntled town.

Phichit stuck with Yuri as he meandered through the market carts picking up a few fruits and vegetables as they talked about their lives.

“So, no family, huh? That must have been hard. My family is rarely home since my father works in the fields all day. It’s barely enough to put food on the table but it’s just us, so we survive. He tried to get me to work in the field with him, but I was much more interested in preparing the food versus harvesting it.”

Yuri hoisted the bag of purchases on his hip as he paid for a sack of roasted meats. “So, you’re a cook then?” Phichit nodded. “I love cooking! It’s satisfying to turn a heap of raw ingredients into something that tastes completely different than what they started off as separately.”

“I’ve never cooked anything _real_ before,” Yuri admitted as they reached the end of the marketplace. “I guess I’ll figure it out though when I get…” He paused, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “…home.” He glanced at Phichit, a grin already proudly displayed. “Now that I have a home, I can do all sorts of things! I can do whatever I want!”

The pair made a loop around the stalls, chatting while they walked. “So…what’s he like? Your…” Phichit paused to think about how he was to phrase the question. “…father, I guess? There are a lot of rumors about the Nobel on the hill, so I’m just curious.”

Yuri’s loud and tear filled laugh earned him a playful punch to the arm. “No, no way. He is _not_ my father—not in any way. That would be…weird.” The pair stopped as they came to the end of an alley with a door to the right.

Phichit stepped up toward the door. “This is my house. Wanna come in? I can show you how to cook all that stuff you got.” He opened the door and stepped in, waving the other in after him. “We can talk more while I cook.”

“Sure! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve talked to someone around my own age? I’ve always been around younger kids, so this is a nice change.” Yuri entered the modest home, looking around to take in his surroundings. The place was a small two-bedroom house with a rickety dining table that had mismatched chairs, a well-used wood burning stove, and a small row of cabinets, some notably broken,  lining the kitchen. The fine wisps of dust in the air made Yuri sneeze.

The younger boy took the bag of food out of Yuri’s hands, setting it near the stove. “Sorry, we don’t clean much since it’s just us. We don’t have many visitors. This must be a hovel compared to what you’re living in, huh?”

Yuri shrugged, moving toward the counter to take out the ingredients from the sack. “It’s okay, nothing to be ashamed of. Victor only picked me up this morning, so I’m not used to anything fancy. This is a lot better than the small boy’s home I’m from. You at least have your own space.”

Phichit agreed, saying he would go crazy if he had to live in a cramped space with a bunch of other boys, while he prepared the stove and got out some essential ingredients. Yuri was staring off into space when a pile of carrots, onions, and celery were pushed in front of him along with a knife. Phitchit started scrubbing a potato he had in his hand. “There, you just carefully take the top layer off those carrots, peel the skin off the onions, take the leafy part off the celery, and then chop them all into little pieces. We’re making a hearty stew—with my secret recipe!”

Yuri nodded, eager to get started. “Sounds delicious!” The pair worked as they hummed, Yuri getting the hang of whittling away at the carrots and Phichit sprinkling spices into his now boiling pot of water.

A shriek followed by, “Shit!” pulled Phichit out of his daze as he watched the boiling mixture, now smelling rich with the roasted meat added. The younger boy’s head jerked over to his new friend, eyes wide as he took in the horror. The orange carrot that Yuri was holding was now partially red as the deep slice in his index finger pulsed with pain. “Owww…” Yuri whined, dropping the carrot and moving his finger toward his mouth.”

“No, don’t put that in your mouth!” Phichit’s hand darted out to pull the injured finger away from the cesspit of germs. “Just hold it up. I’ll get a bandage.”

Yuri was instructed to sit at the table as Phichit cleaned and wrapped the appendage. As his finger was covered, Yuri wouldn’t even look at his friend, mumbling, “Sorry,” to the dining table instead.

The heavy sigh from Phichit’s lips and a pat on the hand finally made Yuri look up to see, once again, that smiling face.

“Don’t apologize. Things happen. Just be more careful next time.” Yuri nodded, glancing down again as his cheeks turned pink from embarrassment.

Phichit finished off the stew as Yuri was made to stay sitting, watching from afar. When two steaming bowls were placed on the table, Yuri’s mouth started watering instantly.

“Wow, this looks and smells amazing!” Yuri took an offered spoon and dipped it into the gravy broth. He blew on the spoon a few times before taking a slip as Phichit sat across from him.

“This flavor!” Yuri smacked the table with his good hand. “What is this ingredient? It’s very pungent, but I like it,” he questioned.

Phichit sat up a little straighter in his chair, proud of the praises bestowed upon his cooking. The beaming young man was all too enthusiastic to divulge his recipe. “That’s my _not so secret_ ingredient. I like a lot of it; it makes the stew have a nice after flavor—even though it makes your breath stink.” He let out a hearty laugh, then covered his mouth with a hand after realizing said stinky breath would be wafting in the air from his giggle. A muffled voice answered, “Garlic,” after a few more spoonfuls were inhaled from the boy across from him.

Yuri slurped the remnants of his stew down, licking his lips after. “Well, it’s worth the smell because that was the best meal I’ve ever eaten!”

It was Phichit’s turn to hide the reddening of his cheeks this time. No one ever made such a big deal out of his meals before. The pair leaned back in their chairs, patting their stomachs, and resting their eyes.

As they relaxed in bliss at the meal, a sudden sound from across the rooms startled Yuri, making him jump up and nearly knock his chair over. Panicked eyes looked at Phichit. “What was that!?”

The sound echoed again. “Cookoo, cookoo.”

Yuri knitted his brows in confusion as he watched his friend fall over the table in laugher. Phichit tried to talk but couldn’t. Yuri’s reaction was just too funny.

Waving his hands downward toward his friend, Phichit was able to settle down enough as his friend took a seat.

“Ha! That’s just a cookoo clock. It dings every night at nine. That’s the only time the damn thing’ll go off.”

“What! Is it nine already? Fuck!” Yuri bolted out of his chair and ran for the door, explaining to his friend for the rush as he pulled open the door. “Sorry, I have to go. My ride. Shit. I’ll come back later!” He ran out the door, only to return a moment later, poking his head in before shutting it again. “Oh, thanks for the food! Bye!”

Phichit was left staring at the two empty bowls in front of him and then the door. His new friend just dined and dashed on him.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri, out of breath, caught one of the stone pillars that greeted visitors into the village with both hands. Wiping the trails of sweat off his forehead, he frantically looked to the left and right, then squinted to see further down the dark road.

No one was there.

No one was waiting.

Stepping beyond the boundary of the town, Yuri caught a chill as the wind howled through the trees. He hadn’t realized while he was running how the temperature had dropped now that it was dusk. He turned to peer at the silent buildings that were teeming with life mere hours previous. Now, it looked like a ghost town. No doors were open. No children running late to get home. Yuri felt foolish as the footman’s words came back to him. The older man wasn’t exaggerating—the town completely shut down at sunset.

With a huff, Yuri shook his head and started walking the opposite direction, toward the darkened gravel road, toward home. He made it a few feet when a tug on his vest made him scream and nearly jump out of his skin.

“Shhh!!!” Phichit put a  finger to his lips and whispered. “Quiet down, Yuri. It’s me.” The younger boy put an arm around the other’s shoulders, steering him back into town. Yuri followed without pulling away, his heart still beating frantically from the scare. “You can’t go walking alone at night…”

“But, I have to get home. I need to go.” Yuri removed the hand from his shoulder, turning toward the eerie road. Phichit tried to soothe his worries, grabbing his hand and pulling him back, harder this time.

“Come on; you’ll stay with me tonight. I’m sure that Nobel would rather have you alive and late rather than lost in the dark or dead.”

“But I promised,” Yuri whined, dragging out the last syllable like a pouting child all the while walking back toward Phichit’s home.

As they arrived back at the house, Phichit explained that Yuri would stay in his room while Phichit would stay in his father’s.

“Why isn’t your father home like everyone else at dusk?” Yuri asked while folding down the covers of the tiny bed under the window of Phichit’s room.

Phichit grinned. “Well, he has this _lady friend_ ,” He laughed as he made air quotes. “that he likes to stay with most nights. My father still acts like I’m still too young to realize that he needs someone. I guess he thinks I’ll think bad of him or something, but my mother has been gone for years. It’s understandable.”

Yuri sat on the edge of the bed, slipping his shoes off one by one. “Yeah, being alone for a long time would be awful,” he mused, a sad tone etched in his voice. He was thinking about Victor and wondering how long he’d been alone. All alone in a large house with no one to talk to must be terribly sad he thought.

“Well, night.” Phichit waved and walked out, leaving the door open just a crack. “Oh, I’ll have one of the stable boys take you home tomorrow morning. No worries, okay?”

“Thanks, Phichit. I appreciate this,” Yuri called out, hearing an answer that sounded like Phichit was on the other side of the wall.

As the night wore on, Yuri found it difficult to sleep. It wasn’t that he was worried about getting in trouble for not coming home, he figured he would explain the situation and all would be well. It was the labored coughing that kept him from sleeping. Phichit couldn’t have faired much better as the opening and closing of doors throughout the night indicated many trips to the bathroom, each one after a worsening coughing fit.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri awoke the next morning with bags under his eyes, feeling very tired, but he was thankful he didn’t have to sleep on the street or walk the many miles back to the manor during the chilly night. Stumbling out of bed, he found Phichit cooking a hearty breakfast of eggs and ham in the kitchen.

“Morning. You’re already up, huh,” Yuri said with a yawn, rubbing his eyes.

Phichit looked back and waved with a wooden spatula in his hand. “Already up?” He shrugged, going back to the pan. “Did you see the time?” The spatula rose again, this time point toward the clock across the kitchen.

It read 11:15.

“Phichit! Why’d you let me sleep that long!” Yuri ran his fingers through his dark hair, pulling it at the ends as he flopped in a chair. “Crap. I’m in big trouble.”

“Sorry…you must have needed the sleep though since I tried to wake you twice.” Phichit flipped the breakfast on plates and carried them to the table. Sitting down, he took in in friend’s tired face, seeing the reddened eyes and sunken look. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

Picking up a fork, Yuri pushed the food around on his plate, staring a hole into the pink slice of pork. Sighing, he decided to ask the question that had been on his mind all night. “Um, I know this isn’t my business, but…are you alright? You were coughing pretty badly and seemed to dash out of bed throughout the night.”

The younger boy waved his fork in the air flippantly. “Naw, I’m fine—just an annoying cough. Like I said, no big deal.” He popped a slice of egg in his mouth. “Now, eat—eat!”

Yuri forced himself to eat half of his breakfast, consuming the fluffy yellow curdles and salted meat as quickly as he was able, all the while listening to Phichit prattle on about the latest down gossip. Gulping down a glass of water he nodded politely, getting up to place his used dinnerware in the sink. Turning around and placing his hands on the counter, he gave his friend his best smile. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I really do have to get going. We can get together again soon.”

“Yeah, definitely!” Phichit beamed. “I’ll go see if one of the stable boys can give you a ride. Be right back.”

Phichit was out the door in a flash, returning only minutes after with news that a ride will be ready at the door in minutes. After hearing a knock, Yuri thanked his new friend for all his help and company, extending a hand.

“Whoa!” Yuri sputtered as he found himself stepping backward as an excited Phichit lunged and gave him a bear hug instead. “It was good to meet you too.” He patted the other on the back awkwardly.

The pair parted, Phichit watching as Yuri rode off on the back of a horse down the gravel road. The younger boy was ecstatic that he’d found a new friend. Most townsfolk didn’t care for his exuberant personality, so it was refreshing to meet someone that didn’t seem uncomfortable with it. He enjoyed Yuri’s company and hoped the other felt the same.

 

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a little longer to write. It was almost painful to get it out, but it did come out longer than the previous chapters, so that's a plus right?
> 
> Thank you to everyone that has stuck with me. I'd love to get down a concrete posting schedule as I know that is something I need to work on. <3 
> 
> Without further adieu, here is my Labor Day gift to you for those that are celebrating it today!

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri turned toward the manor after waving to the accommodating stable boy. For a moment, he simply stared at the brass door handle, unsure if he should knock or let himself in. Glancing around, he reached up to touch the giant lion’s head door knocker on one of the doors but pulled his hand away before touching the metal. _This is stupid; I live here now._ Rolling his eyes at himself, he moved forward to grasp the handle, turning it and pushing inward.

The door didn’t budge.

Using both hands this time, Yuri twisted the knob sharply, pushing his weight into the door.

Nothing.

“Maybe it’s stuck,” he mumbled under his breath as he pushed a third time without result.

Peering through the small sidelight windows, he noticed the curtains drawn and no light was shining from inside from what he could gather. Yuri took hold of the brass loop on the door, banging it loudly. “Victor, are you in? It’s Yuri. Please, open up.”

A few knocks turned into fierce pounding with fists as the minutes ticked by without an answer. Yuri continued to call out to the Nobel but was rewarded with silence. Five minutes turned into ten—ten into fifteen as he waited by the door.

After giving the door a swift kick in anger, Yuri hopped down from the concrete stairs and made his way around the perimeter of the expansive home. As he rounded the building his fingers became painful from pulling up on every single ground floor window in hopes for an opening.

“Dammit!” He cursed as he arrived at the front of the house. He found each window had been locked or at least stuck shut. Another round of banging on the front door and some of the windows yielded more unanswered calls. There was nothing more for him to do, he was stranded outside with no one around for miles. “May as well check again—nothing else to do,” Yuri muttered to himself as he pulled anxiously at his dark hair. If Victor was out, it might be many hours before he returned or at worst over a day depending on the man’s schedule.

Rolling his white sleeves up to the elbow, Yuri trekked the manor once more. This time he took care to jiggle, bang, and pull on the windows just in case one was simply painted shut versus locked.

On his knees, Yuri pushed and pulled at a smaller basement window that he’d missed on his first round. It was a tiny window, mostly covered by leaves. Yuri glanced down at his unmuscular frame, then eyed the opening to safety. He was small, but he didn’t know if he was _that_ small.

Having no other choice, Yuri pushed the window up and stuck his head in, noting that nothing would be in his way if he were able to squeeze into the small space. After saying a little prayer, he began very slowly, feet first, into the opening. A chant of, “Don’t get stuck,” accompanied the descent. It was a struggle to get his shoulders through, having to hold his breath and yank himself between the wooden framing as hard as possible. On a third wiggle and push combination, he made it into the interior, landing on the hard concrete slab with a thud.

“Owww!” He rubbed shoulders, bruised from the tight fit. Surveying the damage, he was pleased to see there was none to his clothing but dust and dirt—easily washed out.

After gathering his wits, Yuri found the stairs leading up to the first floor. The lights were out, and the home was silent. Not wanting to startle anyone, Yuri decided to find his way up to the second floor and on to his room without flipping on lights. There was just enough sunlight coming from the curtain gaps to see up the stairs.

Quietly he entered his room, closing the door behind him. Pressing his head against the door, he murmured, “Thank god. I made it in.” Kicking off his shoes, he reached for the switch before turning, whipping off his vest in the process.

A scream broke the quiet stillness of the mansion.

Yuri clutched his chest, his vest crumpling in his shaky hands. He couldn’t form words as his heart pounded from the shock.

Victor sat in the middle of the room in an old rocking chair. The glare on the older man’s face explained what Yuri had feared—trouble.

Incomprehensible words came tumbling out of the boy’s quivering lips before a short sentence was recognizable. “You…waiting…for me?”

Victor didn’t smile, didn’t move, and didn’t respond. The man clutched the arms of the chair making his vein streaked hands all the more noticeable. Was he shaking?

“Where. Were. You?” The question came out harsh with each word emphasized.

Instinctively, Yuri stepped back, covering his midsection with vest filled arms. He rushed through the explanation, telling Victor of the market, stew, meeting Phichit, and losing track of time. After he was finished he looked down and rounded his shoulders to appear small, non-threatening. It was all he could do as the explanation did nothing to alter Victor’s stern expression.

Yuri’s ears perked up. Did he just hear a sniff? He didn’t want to look, but then he heard it again. _Was Victor sniffing the air?_

“Get out.”

Yuri’ head jerked upward. “W-what?” He stuttered.

Victor stayed seated, but his eyes swirled with anger. “I said, get out. As in, leave.”

The other’s saddened eyes spoke volumes—wide with shock as tears threatened to break free, he pleaded. “But, I…”

Before the boy could comprehend what was happening, he felt a hand on his arm, grabbing him—shoving him out the doorway.

“What! Why would you say that? I said I was…”

“I said, get out!”

Yuri tried to push against Victor as the man practically dragged him down the stairs, but it was no use. He may as well have been trying to push down a concrete wall.

Pleas and cries of forgiveness from a panicking boy did nothing to sway Victor’s angry demeanor. The front double doors were hastily flung open, Yuri being pushed out onto the stone steps without a word from his caretaker.

 

“I have no use for someone I cannot trust,” Victor spoke through his teeth, showing no empathy or pity.

“But,” Yuri was unabashedly crying. “I told you what happened. I just got here! Please!”

“Go back to your little friend. I’m sure he’ll take you in again, feeling sorry for you having to live with a monster. Isn’t that right?”

“What?” He wiped his eyes, picking himself up off the stairs. “No, he never said anything bad about you. He was curious if anything, that’s all. Why are you so upset? I came back!”

Victor slammed the door directly in Yuri’s face.

Stunned, the boy stared unseeingly at the brass knob as he heard the three clicks of each deadbolt being turned. It took a moment for his brain to catch up with the reality of what had occurred. He was alone, in a new town, without food, without shelter, and now without a caretaker—all within not even two days of leaving the boy’s home.

Turning and dropping down on a cold step, tugging his knees to his chest, he let loose a torrent of sobs. He was thrown out and miles away from anyone.

Yuri contemplated walking the dirt and gravel roads toward Phichit’s town, but he feared he might get lost or be attacked on the way—so he waited—and waited—for hours. Screaming apologies to the open grounds, the hopeless boy curled up on the top stairs until his voice became a whisper and the temperature grew colder.

 

* * *

 

 

As night fell and Yuri’s voice grew dim, he folded further into himself as he listened to the eeriness of the wilderness. The young boy hadn’t realized just how terrifying scurrying animals and howling wolves could be when one was unprotected in the darkness.

“Please,” Yuri’s voice cracked as he rose to knock on the door, placing his cheek against the smooth wood grain. Closing his eyes, he started to stutter out another fruitless call for mercy when the door creaked open, causing him to lurch forward—face on a collision course with the hard tiled entryway.

Yuri gasped as he prepared for impact. An impact that didn’t come. Sniffling, he felt himself being picked up and carried up a flight of stairs and through a hall.

Victor settled the boy on a stunning king-sized bed, saying nothing, but removing each article of clothing until Yuri was vulnerable and naked on the velvet duvet. The boy was motionless as he listened to a water tap as its drips slowly subsided, unsure of what was to come.

As the warm water of the two-person claw foot tub touched his iced skin, Yuri’s mind began to unfog as quickly as the feeling returned to his limbs. Knitting his brows, the anger came rushing back to the forefront.

Victor’s touch with a washcloth was very much unwanted. Pulling his arm away from the kneeling man, the seething boy crossed his arms in disgust.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You left me out there alone!”

Yuri’s voice cracked. He feared he could have been harmed in the darkness and Victor’s response to merely being late was far too harsh to warrant possibly being injured or worse.

“I’m sorry, I may have overreacted.” Victor dipped the cloth in the suds filled water and rang it out again.

“ _May have?_ ” Yuri growled. “No, you didn’t accept my apology, so I won’t accept yours!” The splash of the water caught Victor off guard, but not so much that he didn’t see the open palm hurling toward his face.

A whimper left Yuri’s lips as his wrist was clutched, stopping the assault in mid air.

“Don’t you dare!” Another squeeze was given in warning to the reddening skin.

“I thought you’d run away. I was furious as the night wore on. I was tempted to find you, but you would not have liked the consequences—for yourself or your new friend. So, I waited.”

“Fuck you!” Yuri took the opportunity of the loosened grip to twist his arm away from the other.

“Oh, that must be the attitude the old woman was talking about.” A curt laugh escaped his lips. “I was holding back my anger, you little shit. I _had_ to throw you out. Just looking at you pissed me off. Trust me; you do not want my fury released on you. When I get going, I find it hard to stop.”

“So, you’re saying if I cross you, you’ll beat me? Great.”

“If I lose my temper? No, I won’t beat you, Yuri. I’ll destroy you.”

Yuri kicked the side of the tub causing more water to slosh. He shivered as the words the man spoke so coldly sunk in. Was he in danger by just being at the manor?

“Don’t test me,” Victor snapped, causing the other to glare hatefully. “Stop being a child. Wash yourself—you fucking stink of garlic.” The cloth landed on the boy’s stomach with a splat.

Yuri was in full stubborn mode, refusing to touch the washcloth, instead folding his arms around himself once again. “I could have died out there! With the town’s talk of disappearances—I was terrified, Victor!” Yuri’s voice hitched within the mumbled admission.

“Fine, don’t wash yourself.” The older man paused, staring at the pouting lips that jutted out from the silhouette of Yuri’s face. “And you were in no real harm. Nothing _out there_ was a danger to you. Trust me.”

The boy’s arms flailed in all directions as his foot was jerked upward, causing the need to catch himself or find his head underwater. “Hey!” Yuri called out as he deliberately pushed water directly at his caretaker.

Victor glanced down at his now soaked vest, before catching the other’s seething brown eyes. “Lovely, apparently you’re not only a little shit but an asshole as well. You won’t wash yourself, so I’m going to do it for you.”

“Whatever. You’re a jackass for what you did.” Yuri gritted his teeth as he felt the man’s strong hands move over his calf and down his sensitive thigh. He was getting nowhere, so he decided to act like the child he was accused of being by silencing himself and fixing his face into a hurt grimace.

Despite Yuri’s efforts to stay furious and hateful toward the Nobel that was making every effort to be gentle with his cleansing touches, he felt his muscles ease against his will as the two hands worked up his body.

Victor seemed to calm as he watched the little goosebumps appear and disappear as the soapy cloth worked their way across the flawless skin. He worked in silence, moving arms as needed to get everything clean.

The boy’s eyes became heavy, shutting and fluttering open as he was essentially being pampered. Victor took the chance to talk to his charge, albeit calmly this time.

“The loafers you had on—where did you get them?” Victor asked idly.

“Hm?” Yuri stifled a yawn, wondering why Victor was trying to act civil with random conversation. “In one of the armoires. You said I could have whatever I’d found in there.” His last sentence came off more accusatory than he’d meant.

Victor raised a hand, pausing before he spoke. “Yes, I did say that. I was merely curious. I just never expected to see those shoes ever again.”

Yuri took in Victor’s appearance. The man was hunched over the tub, arms dangling—hovering over the boy’s naked form. His eyes were down cast, the planes of his face suddenly looked weathered, old even. Victor’s eyes closed, a sigh leaving his lips. Yuri wasn’t an expert at reading the emotions of others, but if he had to guess, the Noble was lost in sadness.

The boy knew virtually nothing about his new caretaker, and now it was as if a carrot of information was dangling in front of him. Something he could learn about Victor that possibly would explain the harsh reactions and mood changes—the curiosity was too much; he had to ask.

Unconsciously, the boy scooted closer to one of the hands that were dangling near him. “Um, they’re just a pair of shoes. Who’s were they?”

The older man leaned back from the tub, grabbing a nearby towel to dry his hands. Getting up, he pulled a small wooden stool toward him and sat down. He seemed to be judging whether he should give Yuri an answer as he caught the cocoa eyes gazing at him.

“Well, they were,” Victor paused, clearing his throat. “they _should_ have been a friend’s, but I never got the chance to give them to him. So, they stayed in the back of that old furniture. I’d forgotten about them mostly until I saw you with them.”

“So, what happened? Did you get in a fight or…?” Yuri trailed off. He was much too curious for his own good.

Victor gave him a solemn smile. “No, we rarely argued. He was my best friend—my only friend. Christophe was his name. Chris for short. We used to spend hours just talking about the world, about people, about all sorts of things. He was the only person that knew the real me. No matter what I did, he was always there. His faith in me never wavered. He saw the ugliness inside and instead of running away he fought to put me in my place. As nasty as I got he never showed a hint of fear.”

Silence stretched between them.

“So…he passed away then? What happened, an illness?”

Victor slid the stool closer so that his knees bumped the edge of the porcelain. He twisted his wrist into a twirling gesture, motioning for Yuri to turn around so he could wash his hair. Yuri did as instructed, suddenly feeling calm at the sound of Victor’s voice. He wasn’t angry anymore and felt a pang of sadness for the other man. Whatever had happened to this friend seemed to weight on the Nobel significantly.

Victor scrubbed the shampoo through the dark locks as he spoke. “Yes, he did leave this world, but it wasn’t an illness sadly.”

Once again Yuri just had to know more. “So…how’d he die?”

Victor pushed on Yuri’s shoulders to have him dunk his hair in the water. After the suds were gone, the boy rose and turned toward the other, waiting for an answer.

“You seem so keen on wanting to know. I’ll probably regret it, but I’ll tell you.” Victor reached around to squeeze the water out of Yuri’s hair. The boy was face to face with the older man, patiently waiting for him to speak.

“I killed him.”

Yuri’s eyes bloomed like saucers, pulling away from Victor on instinct. “What?” Yuri pushed the hands away from his person. “You mean, it was an accident or something right? And you blame yourself?”

Victor shook his head. “No…no, Yuri. It was very much on purpose.”

Yuri scooted toward the far end of the tub, his brows knitted in confusion. “Why? I don’t understand. Why would you kill your only friend?”

“Because he asked me to.” Victor got up to get a towel, rubbing his hands down his face as he rose.

“Victor, that doesn’t make sense. Why would someone ask you to kill them? Not only that, but why would you do it?”

Yuri snatched the towel from the other’s hands as he stood up, not wanting to be exposed any longer. The turn of conversation was unsettling, and he felt less vulnerable if he was covered. Granted, if Victor did wish him harm a mere towel would do nothing to protect him. It was similar to a child hiding under a blanket when they were scared—the feeling of something separating their bodies from a threat was soothing.

“Did you sleep at all last night or were you honestly waiting up for me? You must be sleep deprived—confused. You’re not making sense, Victor.” Yuri stepped out of the bath, drying himself and wrapping the terry cloth around his waist.

Victor chuckled as he gathered the boy’s clothing, but it wasn’t a cheery sound. “I did wait for you, but I feel fine. I suppose it all does sound insane to you, doesn’t it?” He sighed. “I’m sorry, forget I said anything about him. It’s not a memory I want to relive anyway.”

“You were as ass for locking me outside. And, yes, you scared the shit out of me, but I don’t think you would kill anyone. You took me in without any conditions—a bad person wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, Yuri. Please, never stop being that naive. You’ll be happier for it.”

“Victor…” Yuri started but was cut off.

“You must be exhausted by now. Get some sleep. I’ve got pajamas laid out for you on your bed.” He hoisted the clothing up in a ball. “I’ll get these washed and clean up here. Go on.” Victor shooed him away with one hand while the other pulled the plug on the bath drain.

The conversation was over; Victor was not divulging any more information. Yuri slowly made his way to bed, but sleep was hard to find. Images of Victor killing a friend begging for his life flitted through his nightmares. As the boy sprung awake, covered in sweat, he told himself that it was all nonsense. Victor was a private person and filling his head with terrifying stories was one way to stop him from asking further questions, or so Yuri told himself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sign up for my newsletter at [seramaddingly.com](http://www.seramaddingly.com)


End file.
